


Learn Your Lesson

by arwenadreamer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dark fic, Gen, emotional distress, emotional torture, there is no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:01:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22666678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arwenadreamer/pseuds/arwenadreamer
Summary: What happens in 05.04 "The End" from Sam´s POV. He´s mostly just a helpless witness and emotionally tortured by the devil.This is a really dark and emotionally heavy fic. I don´t even know where that came from. But here it is. Have fun.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Learn Your Lesson

**Author's Note:**

> Again, if you´re looking for something light and happy, look somewhere else. Consider yourself warned. But if you´re like me and enjoy suffering with our boy´s, then this is the place for you. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Sam and Dean. But if I did, they might have to suffer a bit less. Maybe.

Learn Your Lessons

Sam was floating in a cloud of guilt and regret, desperation and shame. Emotions where rolling through him and drowning him. There was nothing else. No physical feelings. No sensory stimulations. He was completely shut off from his own body. All there was, was an endless stream of thoughts and memories. Every mistake, he had ever made in his life, all of his worst memories, hung in the void around him like an animated three-dimensional picture, set on an endless loop, creating a prison of guilt and self-hatred that he couldn´t escape.

_Most people think I burn hot. It´s actually the opposite_. Even though Sam wasn´t able to physically feel temperatures, he was still somehow chill to the bones. It was as if his mind was freezing in the presence of the monster that was inside of him.

One memory in particular assaulted him time and again, one word, echoing tonelessly through the thick fog of shame: _YES_. Oh how he wished he´d never said that. He had been so stupid. Desperate to right a wrong, he´d caused. Blinded by an unduly self-confidence, that he could actually beat the devil. But in the end, he was far too weak and to pathetic. He had learned his lesson. And the world had paid the price _._

_We´re better off apart_. At least, Dean had been far away from him. At least, Dean had had the good sense to stay away from Sam´s destructive presence that sullied everything good around him.

At least Dean was still alive.

Or so Sam hoped. The thought, the hope, that his brother was alive and well, was the lifeline Sam kept clinging to. Thoughts of Dean where the last vestiges of light in a sea of unimaginable horrors. What little sanity he had left, Sam owed it all to brief flashes of green eyes and a charming smile in between images of his own hands, ripping children to shreds before burning their parents, making innocent people writhe in pain on the ground before the white, immaculate shoes his body was wearing these days. Sam was reduced to existing only in thoughts, in memory and emotion, no longer able to see with his own eyes, or hear with his own ears. Yet, the screams of horror his body dealt to the people which he had condemned with his YES to Lucifer, rung in his mind endlessly.

**Sam, you might want to be awake for this!**

Sam felt the hated, ice cold presence of the devil pierce through the prison, made of void, that he was kept in. It was as if a thick, black, velvet curtain was lifted and a tingling connection to his own body was created. It felt strange, after so many years being disconnected. Sounds where penetrating his mind, fragmented at first, not quite fitting to the images that began to flash before his eyes, like screenshots of a horror movie. Sam wasn´t sure whether he wanted to recoil from the sensation, or embrace it as a welcome change. There had been a time when he´d been able to pierce the veil on his own accord. A time, when he had fought tooth and nail, to take control of his body back from the archangel inside of him. He´d managed to make a limp twitch on occasion, but never enough to stop Lucifer from spreading death and destruction. He had felt Lucifer kill with his own hands, and it had made him want to hide, to cover his ears, his eyes, his everything, in order to not see, hear or feel anything. Yet he had stayed. He had fought with everything he had. But in the end, it hadn´t been enough. And as the years went on, and the planet had sunk into chaos and destruction, Lucifer had pushed him down deeper and deeper into his own mind, had surrounded him with an unpierceable darkness, and had him kept prisoner there, ever since.

Being pulled to the surface by the devil now was more than alarming. What was it, that Lucifer wanted him to see? Sam dreaded to find out.

As the sounds, visions and smells, that surrounded him, began to weave together into a picture of war, he would have felt nauseated, had he had control over his stomach. People were screaming, guns were fired. A demon was stabbing a woman from behind. On the floor in the corner, a man was lying in a pool of blood, eyes wide open.

Sam felt his legs move without his doing, as Lucifer exited the building. He stopped right outside a door that led to a terrace. The devils gaze was focused on a garden that must have been beautiful, once, in a time before the apocalypse. Since Sam had no chance of looking around on his own accord, anyway, he drank in the sight of the bush of red roses growing on the side. It had been so long, since he had seen anything other than death and destruction. Intend on burning the picture into his memory, it took Sam a moment to realize that his right hand had snapped up to grab something cool and hard at his right side. Now his head turned slowly that way, a grin spreading on his face. What Sam saw, once Lucifer had fully turned his head, send a feeling of horror through him, that was unlike anything he had felt it in all his time of possession.

Dean was standing next to the entrance, left shoulder turned to the wall, weapon in hand, obviously ready to ambush the devil.

Only, the ambush had failed.

“Hello Dean”

The words in his own voice sounded so far away.

Sam saw Dean stare at him wide eyed, hand still at the colt, pointed at Lucifer. But the devil had the weapon it in a firm grip around the barrel, lifting it just high enough that the pullet would have gone over his shoulder, should his brother have pulled the trigger.

Time seemed to stop for a moment, Sam and Dean staring into each other`s eyes, but not really. Because Sam´s eyes weren´t Sam´s eyes anymore. And Dean´s eyes seemed cold, foreign. Like a strangers.

A gunshot was fired in the building and the surreal moment broke. It couldn´t have been longer than a second, anyway.

Dean sprang into action, trying to pull the colt back, but the devil simply held it in a firm grip, shaking his head slightly, making a little tsk-ing sound.

That was when Sam overcame his initial shock upon seeing Dean. For the first time in years, he gave everything he had to overpower the devil and take control of his body. And be it only for a second, long enough for Dean to shoot him. Oh how he wished that Dean would shoot him. Sam concentrated with all his willpower on his right arm, making his fingers twitch minutely. Lucifer felt it too. The smile on his face faded. Instead he took the colt in both hands and simply melted the iron, deforming the barrel in a grotesque curve. Sam could see, that Dean tried to hold onto the weapon, but finally had to let go as the heat became unbearable.

Sam screamed internally, seeing the one chance, Dean had to kill Satan, crumble to dust. But his face remained smug and smiling.

Dean took a step back, and Sam wished he would just run.

Sam´s mouth opened, and he heard the devil say in his own voice: “Isn´t this a beautiful city, Dean? Maybe, I should re-build it. Make it the capitol of my ruling. After all, it holds meaning. It started here with Sam. And it ends here with you. How poetic, don´t you think?”

The hatred Sam saw in Dean´s eyes would have made him recoil, but the devil simply lifted a finger and made Dean fly through the air, crashing hard against a fountain, with a surge of his power.

Sam again tried to take control over his own body, yet couldn´t stop Lucifer from walking over to his brother with casual, measured steps. He bent down and lifted a clearly dizzy Dean by his jacket, holding him against the fountains basin, taking a swing, aimed at the hunters face, with the left hand. Dean tried to block it and scrambled to get his feet underneath him at the same time. He sneered at the devil and boxed him hard in the abdomen, but Lucifer was entirely unfazed by that, even though he made Sam feel the pain. He landed a second blow, this time aimed at Dean´s rips, and Sam could feel one crack under the blow of his own fist. It was the worst feeling ever.

Lucifer let out a chuckle.

“I have to say, Dean. Sam, in here, is disappointed in you. You sacrificed all your men´s life’s, and now you´re not even putting up a real fight?”

Dean´s face paled.

“Sam is dead!”, he spat with hatred in his voice.

“Oh no, Sam is alive and very much aware in here, right as we speak!”

“Is that so?”, Dean asked, and stopped his struggle entirely. Instead, he looked right into Lucifer´s eyes and his voice became venomous as he said: “Then listen closely to me, you bastard. I should have done what Dad told me to do. I should have ended you when I still had the chance. You´re dead to me!”

Sam´s soul broke. Shattered. Sam couldn´t think. Everything went dizzy. He couldn´t feel anything but pain, a soul-deep pain. _You´re dead to me!_ He wanted to beg. Wanted to reach out to Dean. Wanted his brother’s forgiveness. Even a shred of understanding. Yet he knew he didn´t deserve it. He deserved Dean´s hate. Deserved every ounce of disgust he heard in Dean´s voice.

Sam was vaguely aware that the devil was tossing Dean around. But Dean had gone limp, wasn´t fighting back anymore. When Sam finally was able to focus again, Dean was lying on the ground, looking up to him with a defeated gaze. His eyes were empty, void of all hope. Sam wanted to cry. He had caused that. He had turned his once passionate brother into a cold, empty shell.

Lucifer lifted his right foot, placing it on Dean´s neck, ready to crush him like an insect. Dean just lay there and let it happen.

But Sam wasn´t ready to do so. He didn´t know where he took the energy from, but he fought with everything he had. He couldn´t let Lucifer kill Dean, he just couldn´t. Sam felt his right foot twitch, ready to crush Dean´s throat, but Sam gave everything, screaming in his own head, and, by some miracle, actually managed to stop the devil from executing his movement. It was a battle of wills. If Sam could buy Dean just enough time to run! But his foot was still placed on Dean´s neck. Neither moving down, nor up. And Dean just lay still, too. Not moving, not fighting back, not even trying to defend his life.

**Sammy, what are you fighting for? You heard him. Dean hates you. Let go.** Lucifer´s voice sounded understanding in his head, contradicting the message he was delivering.

Sam struggled. He didn´t want to listen to Satan. He needed to concentrate on saving Dean. But he felt his strength weaken. _You´re dead to me!_ The thought echoed in his head, again and again.

It was just for a moment, that his determined concentration on his right leg wavered. But it was enough. Just a second, yet it felt as an eternity, as his foot pushed down and Sam felt Dean´s cervical spine crush underneath him.

Sam screamed. He screamed, yet he had no way to let his scream out. His heart broke, yet he had no heart anymore. Sam didn´t know that it was possible to feel such intense misery.

In that moment, he knew why the devil had wanted him aware for that. Lucifer had not only crushed Dean. He had also crushed Sam. Completely. Just as with Dean moments before, there was no fight left within him.

The devil turned around. And Sam thought, he was playing tricks on him.

“Oh. Hello Dean.” Sam heard himself say those words for the second time today.

And there was his brother, standing right in front of Sam. Very much alive. Sam felt a spike of hope.

“Well, ain´t you a surprise!”

If Satan was surprised by the sight, then maybe it had all been a trap, carefully set up from Dean´s side? Maybe the corpse on the floor was a shapeshifter? Maybe th-

**Don´t get your hopes up, Sam. This is not your Dean. Well, not today´s Dean, anyway. This Dean is from the past.**

Yes, Sam could feel that Lucifer spoke the truth. His Dean was dead, killed by his own body. He was confused, as to what this Dean did here, though. Maybe he had found a way to time travel, in order to kill the devil? Sam had to stay alert, help Dean out, if he could.

**No, buddy. This Dean has no weapon to kill me. And I won´t kill him. Where would be the fun in that? No, I´m going to let him go back to his own time. And you know, what his future holds for him in store. He´s going to be killed by his own brother´s vessel.** Lucifer´s voice sounded smug and drowned out every other sound.

He saw Dean move his lips, saw tears form in his brothers eyes, but he couldn´t hear a damn thing. Lucifer was shutting him off his senses, leaving nothing but sight. Like a silent movie running across a screen, Sam saw Dean talking to the devil with passion. He saw regret and sorrow in Dean´s eyes, both feelings that mirrored Sam´s own emotions.

The conversation went on for a while, but Sam couldn´t even concentrate on Dean´s features. He felt like he was drowning in despair.

Lucifer´s voice demanded attention: **Time, to say goodbye to Dean forever, Sammy.**

With that, the devil flew away. Sam´s vision went dark. He didn´t give any resistance, as Lucifer pushed him back down, deep in his mind. The black, impenetrable walls of his prison closed around him. And the ever running picture show of his worst failures had some shiny new additions. He would see his own foot, clad in immaculate white shoes, crush his brother’s neck, time and again, for all eternity.

Sam wished, he could die.


End file.
